Alleyways
by Serendipithy
Summary: I might be breaking the law, and this might not be the best way to confess the profession I want to pursue, but what else can I do?  With a shake of my can and a spray of color I can create anything on this colored canvas. Sasori x Sakura. Two-shot. AU.


**Title: **Alleyways  
**Summary: **I might be breaking the law, and this might not be the best way to confess the profession I want to pursue, but what else can I do? With a shake of my can and a spray of color I can create anything on this colored canvas. Sasori x Sakura. Two-shot. AU.  
**A/N: Effff. **I was going to upload this earlier, but I was (belatedly) watching the Chinese New Year Festival show in Chinese. C:

Dedicated to my mistress, Amy! No more comments on the matter because my ex-wife and co. decided to pervert-ify all the other things I said.

**Disclaimer: **not mine.

x—x

"Catch her!"

Hello there; my name is Sakura Haruno. I'm nineteen, working as a doctor's apprentice, and living as an only child with my parents. I dyed my hair pink once I got into high school against my parents' wishes, and I have bright emerald eyes. My natural hair color was black, and I'm half-asian, half-European (hence my eye color.)

But that's not what you want to know is it? You're probably wondering who this "her" person is—who these people want to catch.

Well, look no further—it's me. Yes me, a woman with much potential to become a highly successful doctor, someone who can easily attain a job in the medical field. Me, a girl who has been unhappy ever since she found out she couldn't be anything _but_ a doctor (according to her parents, who had thrown a fit at finding out that she had enrolled in art at school.) Me, a girl resorting to using drastic measures to release her pent-up desires in the form of law-breaking and vandalism.

Meet Sakura Haruno: a girl who is sometimes the obedient, docile girl who listens to her parents' wishes and works to becoming a doctor, and who sometimes goes out of her way to buy a can of spray paint just to make _art_.

And here I am, running away from the authorities once again, dressed as a suspicious alleyway gangster in a ragged hoodie and faded sweatpants.

And I'm satisfied; my work in this community has finally been completed. Now, if you ever pass the alleyway between 13th Street and 14th Avenue where _Tiffany's Candies_ is located, be sure to admire the work I did.

It's beautiful—it's the face of a girl with long black hair and shining emerald eyes, ecstatic as she sees a dove fly down into her hand to take some of the food out of her hands. It's a face that I can only dream of making in reality, though I may have let that face play across my face a few times when I'm too engrossed in my work to notice the faces I make.

If you haven't already guessed, I want to be an artist. I might be breaking the law, and this might not be the best way to confess the profession I want to pursue, but what else can I do? With a shake of my can and a spray of color I can create anything on this colored canvas. Whether it be the brick walls in the richer communities or white plaster walls peeling at its edges in the slums, I will go everywhere and anywhere to release my inner artist. I will do whatever it takes to continue to have my parents stay proud of me without finding out that I do not want to go along with their wishes because as their only child I cannot disappoint them with all the expectations they have piled on me.

I will continue to purchase spray paints of all different colors, watching as their colors blend and mix as I spray wet layers on top of each other on my informal canvas. I will continue to roam neighborhoods, keeping an eye out for the perfect location for my next masterpiece.

I have already decided that my next destination will be the puppet shop on the outskirts of Konoha that borders Sand.

I'm so psyched for this.

x—x

As the public bus drops me off at my stop, I scan the area that will (soon) display a new masterpiece. (I have to get to know the authorities in this area, you know? Figure out which times are best to work, what times I should run away—those sorts of things.) It's the summer semester at college right now, and I'm free to roam the streets.

My parents think I've been hard at work—which I have… just not in the way they aspire for me to be.

It's a bright and cheery Tuesday morning. Ten o'clock AM to be exact, but who cares about the time right now? Though I'm _supposed_ to be participating in a mentorship under a renowned woman known as Tsunade, she let me off for the day since I was already ahead in my research anyway. (She doesn't want to admit that she just wants to go to a bar to drink sake.)

I'm walking on the sidewalk on Minato Boulevard right now; it's fairly peaceful because everyone's either at work or sleeping in. I spot the sign—"Indigo Avenue"—that indicates where the crossroad is and where my new art exhibition will be held. To the right of the road is the alley; to the left, the road leads up to the puppet shop's parking place. I decide that it's still early enough for me to go inside and see what exactly a puppet shop sells—they can't possibly earn good money can they?

As I enter, a small chime resounds throughout the quaint shop. There is a man working on a marionette behind the counter. He has messy red hair and eyes that look almost charcoal in color. Although the weather outside is nearly ninety degrees, the man wore a dark black, heavy-looking cloak around him as he worked.

Well, the air conditioning in the shop _is_ full blast, I thought as I shivered a bit. I wasn't a huge fan of warm weather and always liked dressing modestly, wearing jeans and a t-shirt even in the scorching hot weather—this, however, was not sufficient enough in protecting me from the AC.

Pausing in his work, the man looks up and gives a nod in greeting. I politely nod back and begin exploring the items placed meticulously on the shelves. There must've been tens—no, hundreds!—of marionettes, puppets, and life-like dolls displayed behind cases, on shelves—even hanging off of the ceiling. I stared at them in awe, attentively examining the details carefully carved and painted.

"I take it that you like them?"

I almost jump up at the voice, but I manage to only give a look of surprise. The man behind the counter had managed to sneak up on me without my notice!

The man smirked as I nodded, answering his question.

"Do you do custom dolls?" I shyly inquire. I wanted him to make a doll that looked like me, only with long black hair and a smile that rivaled my own only when I was satisfied with my artwork. I wanted to hold a tangible memory of the bliss I felt—just in case I ever had to give up my art escapades.

"I do. Do you have someone or something in mind?"

"Yes, actually… Could you make a doll out of this girl?" I asked as I reached into my bag and pulled out a small picture of my younger self—smiling—from my purse.

He raised his eyebrows.

"Is that you?"

"N-no. It's my… younger sister," I replied, biting my lip as I forced the lie out. I had no reason to tell an almost complete stranger that the picture was me, or that the picture was me when I was younger, when I had _normal_ black hair.

I would never tell anyone about the effort I put into my hair to keep it pink. I loved being a little unique, a little different from the person who sat next to me in class, on the bus, or just about anywhere. I enjoyed feeling like a work of art with my glaringly bright pink hair standing out in the crowd.

The man gave me a knowing look before answering.

"Okay then. Come back in about a week and I'll have it done for you," he confirmed, turning his back towards the counter to note it down, effectively ending the conversation.

I gave a slight smile.

x—x

One week and several undercover scouts (of the community) later, I once again stood in front of the puppet shop's door. I pushed through the door, hearing that familiar chime as I entered. The man—I forgot to ask for his name last time didn't I?—was behind the counter just like the last time I had visited the shop. This time, however, he was twirling a small keychain-sized doll around his right index finger. As I approached, I noticed the fake dark black hair on the keychain.

It was breathtaking. The details were smoothly carved, and although I hadn't given him any details on how I wanted the doll to look, it was…

Perfect.

It looked like a chibi version of me in high school, in the school uniform that was shown in the reference picture I had showed him. The uniform was a dark blue with a single strip running around the border of the shirt collar and two stripes running around the edge of my skirt. My emerald eyes had been accentuated with some kind of paint that glistened under the light.

I could only get one word out of my mouth.

"Beautiful."

I took it carefully from the man and held it with a shocked face, still not comprehending that this wonderful work of art would be mine.

Looking back up, I asked, "I forgot to ask last time, but could I have your name?"

"Call me Sasori. May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"

"Sakura Haruno."

"Ah, Sakura. How fitting," he said, his eyes glancing up at my hair. I grinned.

"Well, thank you very much for the doll Sasori! How much do you charge for customs?"

"Oh, you don't have to worry about paying me anything—that's a gift from me to you. Just be sure to advertise it around if that's not too much trouble."

"…I-I couldn't possibly just _take_ this without paying you! Really, Sasori, how much is it?"

He almost looked like he was glaring.

"_It's free."_

As the bell chimed and two well-dressed men with briefcases entered, he continued by saying, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have other business to attend to."

With that, Sasori brushed passed me, leaving me in a state of befuddlement.

What had I done to deserve such a sudden change in attitude?

x—x

**A/N: **So. This is my first SasoSaku fic. I know the pairing isn't popular, but my mistress and I just LOVE them (CAN YOU SEE THE LOVE? Good.)  
Also, in no way do I promote vandalism or graffiti on walls. I just thought the idea was fitting, though a Deidara x Sakura fic here may have worked better. OH WELL I LOVE YOU MORE SASORI. 8D

I will (hopefully) have the second chapter up very soon!

Any advice for me to improve will be much appreciated, so **review please?**


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